


love you on the weekends

by starryhoch (slytherminie)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Fuckbuddies, Heartache, Jeon Wonwoo & Kwon Soonyoung are Best Friends, Joshua Hong saves the day, M/M, Minor Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Minor Kim Mingyu/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Miscommunication, Partying, Pining, Soft Jeon Wonwoo, Yoon Jeonghan is kinda bad at feelings, alternatively titled: how long can two idiots in love circle around each other?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherminie/pseuds/starryhoch
Summary: The fact is that even if Wonwoo doesn’t actively look for complications, they decide to pursue him instead.It takes him exactly four minutes and ten seconds to fall in love.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88





	love you on the weekends

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! Hahah I'm here again, what a surprise. Today I offer you 16k of unnecessary pining!!!  
> The concept for this came to me in the form of this [song](https://open.spotify.com/track/6DZ5EOzz715nW5UIovhIWD?si=4bJK6mbGRGSZI1aPTu91vw), if you wanna give it a listen while you read :) Hope you'll enjoy!

It’s Monday. 

Yet another Monday that rolls around and leaves traces of what-ifs and what-nots behind it, words unsaid that were left in the air the previous night still hanging above Wonwoo’s bed like glow-in-the-dark stars did on the ceiling of his old bedroom back at his parents’ home. 

His alarm blasts a song he finds annoying, one that Soonyoung put in there and that he never bothered to change. Without rolling out of bed he manages to snatch his phone from where it ended up being discarded the night before, under his bed, inside the pocket of his sweatpants. He finds out it’s not his alarm, but Soonyoung himself calling him for who knows what reason. Instead of answering he makes sure his best friend gets directed to voicemail. That’s what he gets for waking him up at seven am on a Monday when he doesn’t have any morning classes and could be sleeping until midday. That asshole. 

The music ends as soon as Wonwoo swipes the red icon, but it takes Soonyoung exactly three seconds to call again. Wonwoo feels the need to throw the device out of the window. 

“What?!” He croaks out as a greeting, gritting his teeth together when all he gets as an answer is Soonyoung’s delighted giggle. There’s no conceivable reason for him to be so loud and cheery this early on a Monday. 

“You don’t sound like someone who’s had a whole weekend of  _ fun _ ,” Soonyoung points out, which makes Wonwoo groan some more. “Did you call me just to be a pain in the ass?” 

The moment the words get out of his mouth, Wonwoo realizes he’s made a mistake. If possible, Soonyoung's laughter gets even more deafening. “Oh, I believe you’ve got plenty of pain in the ass the last few days. Or you’ve been one, Wonwoo-yah?”

“I’ve gone my whole life not discussing my sexual preferences with you, Soonyoung. I’m not going to start now.”

“That’s a pity.” There’s loud chattering on the other side of the phone, Soonyoung probably being in a crowded coffee shop. Caffeine must be already in his system for him to be such an insufferable little bitch so early in the morning. Despite how much Wonwoo loves him, he feels the need to reach through the phone and clutch a hand around his neck in a not-so-loving way. “I always thought we were besties, and yet you won’t even tell me your weirdest kinks.”

“The thing is, Soonie,” Wonwoo takes a deep breath before continuing, feeling like this is the worst conversation he could be having right now, “that I know if I’ll tell you my kinks, you’re going to feel the need to share yours as well, and I really don’t want to start unpacking all of that.”

“Fair enough,” Soonyoung replies, before sounding like he’s slurping something up with a straw. It’s probably the noise of his caffeine dose. 

“Did you call just to annoy me, or was there a real reason?”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Despite how Wonwoo thinks Soonyoung could have waited at least until ten in the morning to make this call, he can’t help but appreciate the sentiment. It makes his heart do a little twirl in his chest, something that dims for a second or two the hollow feeling he’s had under his sternum since the previous night. 

“I’m…” Not great, not alright. “As good as I can be. Thanks for checking in, Soonie.”

Soonyoung clicks his tongue on the other side of the phone, clearly not satisfied with his answer. There’s silence over the line for a couple of seconds, only the sounds of the cafè filtering through. 

“I’m going over at Mingyu’s after I’m done with classes and I’ll convince him to cook your favourites. I’ll be at yours for lunch.”

There’s something stuck in Wonwoo’s throat. Maybe it’s the affection he has for Soonyoung trying to pour through his mouth. He swallows it down. 

“Thank you, Soonie,” he says, instead of an ‘ _ I love you. _ ’ He knows Soonyoung can hear it in his voice anyway. 

“Anything for you,” Soonyoung replies, like taking care of Wonwoo is just second nature for him. In a way, it’s exactly like that. “Make sure you take care of yourself. I’ll be there soon.”

Wonwoo lets the phone slip from between his fingers as he buries himself back under the covers. The hollow feeling is still right there, still gnawing at him from the insides, making him feel small, and weak, and pathetic. Instead of mulling over it too much, he closes his eyes right after checking that there is still an alarm set to go off in a couple hours. Maybe falling asleep will take away the heartache, maybe he’ll wake up in a universe where he didn’t leave all the words left unsaid pierce through his chest and make him bleed on the covers of his own bed. 

❣

Soonyoung has a frown on his face when he worms his way inside Wonwoo’s apartment with the key he forged just to make sure that Wonwoo would never die of loneliness. Despite how hard Wonwoo had protested at the time he discovered the act, he’s glad that he doesn’t have to get up from bed to open the door for him. The smell of food fills the air as his friend closes the door behind his back.

“Mingyu’s special treatment for broken hearts!” Soonyoung yells, far louder than necessary since Wonwoo’s apartment consists of just two rooms and that the door connecting them is currently wide open. “Plus Soonyoung’s special ingredient!”

“If you say you sprinkled the tiger’s power in it I will kick you out!” Wonwoo bemoans, hiding himself below the covers, dragging them up to hide himself, only his eyes poking out to trace Soonyoung’s movements. There’s an easy skip to Soonyoung’s steps as he gets into Wonwoo’s room, arms full. 

“Nah, it’s beer! I brought you beer.”

“It’s midday. On a Monday.”

“What better time of the day to drink beer?”

Wonwoo doesn’t even want to begin arguing with him, hiding himself fully and disappearing in a cocoon of warmth and darkness. It lasts just a few seconds, while Soonyoung leaves the food and beverages in his hands to take away his blanket shield and give a very long, very meaningful stare at him. “You look terrible.”

“Wow, thanks for the self-esteem injection.”

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

Wonwoo pouts, making grabby hands at the beer bottle Soonyoung put on his bedside table instead of actually giving him an answer. Truth is, he did sleep. It just took him several hours to make his brain shut up, and even more time to settle down so his heart would stop beating too loudly inside his ears. When he fell asleep light was already filtering through his window, but he was too exhausted to care. Soonyoung rolls his eyes at him, but passes him the bottle and retrieves the food he brought in styrofoam containers. 

“Mingyu said he wished he could come by,” Soonyoung announces around a mouthful of noodles, “He said that I should take good care of you.” 

“You’re doing a great job,” Wonwoo reassures him before taking a swig of his beer. The liquid is cold and bitter, coats his tongue with anything else that isn’t the words he didn’t say the previous nights and fills his stomach, replacing the regret. 

They eat in silence for a while, exchanging bowls and feeding each other. Mostly it’s just Soonyoung forcefully shoving food inside Wonwoo’s mouth, but he doesn’t mind it that much. Sometimes he likes to be coddled over, especially when he’s feeling so awfully spent and empty. 

“I don’t have any dessert,” Soonyoung informs him, “but we can go buy some ice cream if you want?” 

The prospect of ice cream does sound appealing, but Wonwoo isn’t sure getting out of bed is a prospect today. He’s already sent a text to Jihoon to please take some notes for him too, deciding to avoid his classes altogether. Jihoon, the kind soul that he is, replied with a knife emoji that could mean anything, really. Wonwoo decided to assume it’s an agreement of some sort. 

“Nah, thank you Soonyoungie. I’m fine.”

“You’re really not.”

All the leftover food has been pushed to the floor and Soonyoung is now sitting cross-legged on top of Wonwoo’s bed. The frown is back on his face. 

“I hate seeing you like this,” he states sincerely, making Wonwoo wince at his words. He knows he looks worse for wear - he’s seen his reflection in the mirror when he got up to pee a while ago, and he looked like a zombie. Dark circles around his eyes, bedhead, the soulless expression of someone who’s spent the weekend mulling over his feelings. 

“I hate it too.”

“Just tell him, you can’t do this anymore!” Soonyoung exclaims, clutching the comforter between his fingers as if strangling the fabric would help him in stopping himself from strangling a real person. 

“It’s not that simple.”

“It really is, Wonu. You just have to say the words.”

Well, maybe Soonyoung is right, maybe it is easy. Maybe he could have said something the previous night - anything really, anything that wasn’t a moan, or a word of encouragement, or a curse, anything that would have made his heart stop from tearing itself into pieces. 

“It’s so hard, Soonie. I can’t find my footing around him.”

Soonyoung’s nose scrunches up. “It’s eating you from the inside and it’s eating  _ me _ from the inside.” 

A sigh escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, his fingers tapping a mindless rhythm over his own knee. Soonyoung reaches out to stop him, fitting his fingers between Wonwoo’s. 

“I don’t want to sound patronizing, or like a broken record.”

“You’re alright,” Wonwoo smiles at him, even if it’s thin and frail. “I know that I have to do something to fix this situation or I will explode, soon enough.”

There’s a tiny nod from Soonyoung as he caresses Wonwoo’s knuckles with his thumb. “If you need me, for anything, you know I’m always here, right?”

“Sure.” A thing is certain in Wonwoo’s life, and that’s Soonyoung’s presence in it. He’s been there for so long now, supporting Wonwoo through his hardest times, holding his hand during the scariest parts. Soonyoung and Wonwoo, Wonwoo and Soonyoung. It’s always been like that. 

“Great. I have to go now,” Soonyoung checks his phone for the time before cursing out loud, blocking his screen before slipping it again inside his pocket. “Dance class. Will you be ok? Mingyu said he will come to check on you later.” 

“I’m not ill, you guys. I can take care of myself.”

“A broken heart is almost equivalent to a very nasty cold in the illness scale,” Soonyoung reasons, his voice carrying from where he’s already moved towards the entrance, where he left his shoes. “Call me if you need anything at all!”

“Will do, mom!”

“I love you!” Soonyoung throws over his shoulder, a very accurate imitation of Wonwoo’s mother. It’s scary. 

“Love you too!” Wonwoo yells back at him, because when Soonyoung expresses his feelings out loud he wants immediate reciprocation. It’s an unwritten rule. 

As soon as the door clicks behind him, Wonwoo sprawls himself back in bed, sighing out loud. His stomach rumbles, reminding him of the beer he’s drunk to drown out his thoughts. Before falling back asleep, he checks his phone one last time, opening a chat that he knows he will find empty. Jeonghan’s pretty face smiles at him, the last message he sent the previous night blinking at Wonwoo. 

_ “Are you home? Can I come over?” _

_ “Yes,” _ was Wonwoo’s court answer. A stupid one. He lets the device fall to the floor once again, curling up on his side and hiding his face under the pillow. Stupid. 

❣

As far as Wonwoo’s life goes, he considers himself lucky. He has a loving family, amazing friends, and he’s studying something he really loves. There are bits and pieces here and there that he’d like to improve, but he’s pretty sure he could be content just the way he is, without further complications.

The fact is that even if Wonwoo doesn’t actively look for complications, they decide to pursue him instead. 

It takes him exactly four minutes and ten seconds to fall in love.

At zero on the clock, he’s at a boring party, staring at a wall, hoping that someone he knows will pass by and make small conversation with him. Lost to the crowd a while back, he doesn’t even wonder where Soonyoung went, just silently bemoans the loss of his best friend. These events are always like this: crowded, warm, sweaty. Soonyoung likes to go missing and comes back several hours later with hickeys up his neck and far too much alcohol in his bloodstream. A guy passes by and bumps into Wonwoo without apologizing. He glares at the back of his head.

At zero plus one second, Seokmin walks by, Mingyu and Minghao in tow. The trio smile at him, but they’re far too preoccupied with the perspective of beer pong to stop by. 

At zero plus thirty seconds, Wonwoo decides to start looking for a drink. The last thing he’s put inside his mouth tasted of death - a concoction made by Jun could never taste good, but this time around he’s overcome his own limits. 

At zero plus one minute plus fifteen seconds, Wonwoo is inside the kitchen of someone else’s house, searching through bottles of booze for something that would be at least decent to mix with soda. The labels are mostly familiar, cheap brands that will give him a terrible headache tomorrow, but Wonwoo isn’t at a fancy party. It’s college, and it’s all they can afford. He takes a look at the vodka and says fuck it, pours it inside his cup. He really hopes it’s not as bad as it looks. 

At zero plus one minute plus forty-seven seconds, his gaze meets the one of a man he’s sure he’s seen one minute and forty-seven seconds ago in the hallway. Said man smiles at him, his eyes glinting in the low light as he opens the fridge to get himself a can of beer. 

At zero plus two minutes plus twelve seconds, the man is standing in front of him, a hand on his cocked hip, the other around his drink. There’s a name spilling out of his lips - “Yoon Jeonghan,” he whispers into Wonwoo’s ear, loud enough to be picked over the sound of the bass vibrating through Wonwoo’s bones.

At zero plus two minutes plus fifty-eight seconds, Jeonghan is laughing at something Wonwoo said, a short but sweet sound that makes Wonwoo’s skin tingle. The hand on his hip has moved to clutch Wonwoo’s shoulder, fingers spread out to play with the collar of his shirt. 

At zero plus three minutes plus thirty-three seconds, they’ve moved back into the living room together, Jeonghan’s arms around Wonwoo’s neck as they move to the beat, their bodies close, their breaths mingling when Jeonghan moves further in his space, almost pressing their noses together. The spark in his eyes is dark, dangerous. Wonwoo wants to drown in it. 

At zero plus three minutes plus forty-six seconds, Jeonghan’s lips gently touch Wonwoo’s, a brush of skin so fleeting Wonwoo could think he just imagined it. Instead of letting him get too far, Wonwoo follows him, his mouth chasing Jeonghan’s and stealing a moan out of it that gets absorbed by his tongue. It makes his heart beat into overdrive, his mind spinning when Jeonghan puts both his hands over Wonwoo’s cheeks to keep him close. 

At zero plus four minutes plus ten seconds, their gazes lock when they come up for air, Jeonghan’s lips curling up in a cunning smile. The lipstick he’s wearing is smudged at the edges, and Wonwoo sees it clearly, sees the whole picture. He’s fallen into a trap; he’s doomed. 

They end up going to Wonwoo’s apartment that night, and Jeonghan leaves imprints of his being all over the place. He’s over the rim of the glass he drank water from, in the form of a red lipstick stain. He’s in between the sheets of Wonwoo’s bed, in the form of the smell of his cologne getting trapped in the fabric. He’s on the front door, where he left an orange post-it note with his number written on it when he escaped while Wonwoo was still fast asleep. 

He’s unforgettable, and he’s everything Wonwoo wants and needs. 

It’s easy. They see each other for fun, stress-relieving purposes. Jeonghan doesn’t exist besides the enclosure of Wonwoo’s apartment, besides the four walls he calls home. The weekend is when he manifests, like a ghost infesting Wonwoo’s mind all the time but his physical space only during very specific days - Friday to Sunday, and that’s it. 

For a while, everything goes smoothly. Wonwoo finds it easy to let himself fall between Jeonghan’s arms. They click, so to speak. There’s not much they know about each other - they don’t spend that much time talking to begin with - but Wonwoo knows they’re compatible. It wouldn’t be so easy to fall in love with Jeonghan if that wasn’t the case. 

The problem is that he’s not supposed to fall. 

Jeonghan is a wonderful creature, but he’s not Wonwoo’s to want, to crave, to need. They fit together, but not the way Wonwoo wishes they did. It isn’t Jeonghan’s fault, it isn’t Wonwoo’s. It’s just how the events unfold: there’s Wonwoo, with his soft heart, and there’s Jeonghan, with his charming smile. They’re not meant to be. And yet.

Jeonghan is lounging on Wonwoo’s sofa, his head hanging off the edge of it while he watches Wonwoo move around, gather his clothes so he can go to class. They were not supposed to see each other on a  _ Tuesday _ , of all days. Yet, when Wonwoo got the message during his lunch break, he couldn’t help but reply with a curt ‘ _ See you there _ ,’ leaving Jihoon to eat alone and rushing back to his apartment. 

He finds Jeonghan with his back against the wall of the building, next to the entrance, one of his legs bent at the knee to prop his feet against it. A grin blooms on his lips as soon as he spots Wonwoo; he can’t help but reciprocate. 

“Good to see you,” Jeonghan says when the door to Wonwoo’s apartment closes behind them, pressing Wonwoo against it. The glint in his eyes holds promises that Wonwoo can’t wait to see become reality. 

It’s been a full hour now, and Wonwoo is late for class.

“That sweater looks good on you,” Jeonghan tells him, watching him upside down in his comfortable slouch, “Blue is your color.”

Wonwoo can’t help but blush at the compliment. He tries to hide his embarrassment by turning his face in another direction, looking for his keys that went flying out of his pocket when Jeonghan all but tore his jeans off his skin. “Thanks,” he says to the wall, pretending he can’t see the keychain under the edge of the bookshelf. Jeonghan hums, noncommittal. 

“I’m sure I have a shirt in that shade that I’ve never worn,” he adds, as if he’s talking to himself more than to Wonwoo. Today he appears to be in a chatty mood. “I should bring it over next time, I’m sure it would look better on you than it does on me.”

“Wouldn’t it be a bit too tight on me?” Wonwoo muses, flexing his bicep to taunt Jeonghan a bit. It just makes the older huff a laugh. 

“I’m sure it will be alright.” A pause as Jeonghan’s eyes rake over Wonwoo’s body, laser-focused. It makes Wonwoo’s toes curl inside his socks. “And even if it wasn’t, I’m sure I won’t mind.”

The hunger in Jeonghan’s gaze makes Wonwoo want to reach over, close the space between them; hover over him to kiss him slowly, languidly, until Jeonghan melts into the couch and Wonwoo melts into him. Instead, he scoffs. 

“I would look ridiculous.”

“You’d look hot.”

Jeonghan is still in his boxers, not having made a move aside from wearing those since Wonwoo has started frantically looking for his clothes once he saw the time on his phone screen. 

“Are you going to hang around?” Wonwoo can’t help but ask as he’s standing in the entrance, crouching down to put his shoes on his feet. That seems to wake Jeonghan out of whatever reverie he was living. 

“Shit,” he says, scrambling to sit up, “I forgot you had classes today. I will be out of your hair in a minute.”

Wonwoo considers his options. 

“You can stay, if you want,” he casually throws over his shoulder while he buttons his coat up. “Take your time, I don’t mind you hanging around here. I’m sure if you wanted to rob me you’d have already done that.”

There’s a quiet snort coming from Jeonghan’s general direction. When Wonwoo looks back at him, he finds out he’s again lounging on the sofa like he doesn't have a care in the world. 

“Fine then,” Jeonghan says, waving his hand in the air in goodbye, “I’ll take you up on the hospitality. Can I take a shower?”

“Sure thing, you know where the clean towels are anyway.” Wonwoo doesn’t think too much about that either, doesn’t dwell on the fact that for knowing where all the bathroom stuff is, Jeonghan must have been around there more often than not. 

They don’t exchange kisses of goodbye, don’t say ‘ _ see you later’ _ to each other. Soon enough Wonwoo is out of the door and Jeonghan is still in his underwear, lying on Wonwoo’s sofa.  _ On a Tuesday afternoon. _ For how weird it is, Wonwoo tries not to let it get to his head too much. He has classes to focus on. 

The whole afternoon is spent wondering why exactly did Jeonghan end up at his place on a Tuesday, of all days. 

❣

It’s an unspoken arrangement. Neither of them ever felt the need to clarify what they are, what’s between them. The fact is that Wonwoo doesn’t dare to ask, and that Jeonghan probably doesn’t care. 

Not that he doesn’t care about Wonwoo. He’s proved plenty of times that he does care about him. When he’s brought him coffee on a Saturday morning after an extenuating week. When he ordered chicken for them to eat on a Friday night, even if he was craving sushi, because he knows that Wonwoo doesn’t like fish. When he does things with his mouth, swirls of his tongue that make Wonwoo lose his mind, and doesn’t ask him to return the favour, saying he’s satisfied with just watching Wonwoo come undone. 

It’s just that Jeonghan doesn’t care about labels, or so Wonwoo’s friends have told him.

Jun, especially, has a lot of things to say about him.

“You’re going out with Yoon Jeonghan?” His nose is scrunched up, as if he just smelled something rancid. 

“What if I am?” Wonwoo can’t help but be defensive, can’t help but hide himself behind a hardened surface. It’s not long since he’s started seeing Jeonghan, three weeks at most, but every single time he starts going out with someone new his friends always feel the need to share their opinions. They care for him, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. 

“Nothing,” Jun raises his hands in the air, showing his palms in surrender at Wonwoo’s prickly tone. “I just wanted to make sure. There’s been talk around.”

“Oh, has it now?”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretches as they fill their mouths with food. Jihoon has both of his earphones in, listening to a project he needs to finish for a class. There’s a frown on his face, but he doesn’t seem disturbed by their conversation; it’s probably because of the music. 

“Who’s talking?”

Jun plays with the food in front of him, chopsticks digging into rice. “Soonyoung told me.”

“Of course he did,” Wonwoo sighs, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s inability to keep his mouth shut. The day will come when Soonyoung will stop blabbering about anything and everything, but it is not today. And it’s probably not tomorrow either.

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”

It feels like a conversation he’s had a thousand times over already. It makes him feel a bit nauseous, his stomach closing up when he tries to take a bite of his noodles. Instead of putting them in his mouth, he swirls them around the bowl. 

“Don’t make that face.”

“I’m not making any faces,” Wonwoo answers, flashing Jun a glare before going back to stare at his lunch, “This is my normal face.”

“It’s not,” Jun tuts, “Your normal face is this one.” He makes a poor imitation of Wonwoo-trying-to-see-without-his-glasses. It sucks as an impression, but it has the effect of making Wonwoo crack a smile, just as Jun planned. 

“Listen dude, for all I care you can go out with whoever you want. I just want you to be informed about all I’ve heard.”

“Do I really want to hear it all?”

Jun shrugs his shoulders, filling his mouth with whatever he stole from Jihoon’s plate. The younger of the tree doesn’t even flinch, too focused on whatever is going on inside his ears to pay any mind to either of them. There’s a self-assured little smile on Jun’s lips, the smile of someone who knows things and is ready to share them with the world; if the world wants to listen to them isn’t very important.

“I’ve heard words that he doesn’t do relationships.” Jun counts on his fingers, starting by putting down his forefinger, “That he usually has a different boy for each day of the week.” His middle finger goes down as well, and Wonwoo puts his elbows on the table, his head between his hands. “And that his best friend is really hot.”

“Wait, what?”

“What?” Jun repeats, sucking on the straw of his Coke Zero and wiggling his eyebrows in a very suggestive way. It makes Wonwoo huff a chuckle. 

“The last thing you said doesn’t tell me much about Jeonghan’s character,” Wonwoo can’t help but point out. That only gets Jun to shrug his shoulders once again.

“I’m just stating facts.”

“Is this best friend the source of your intel?” 

A decisive shake of his head. “I wish! I only got to see him from afar at the party you met Jeonghan at.” There’s a tiny pout over Jun’s lips that Wonwoo finds quite amusing. “I’ve seen an angel that night and I didn’t manage to get him out of my head yet.”

“Is this why you’re going around gathering information about Jeonghan? Because you want to fuck his best friend?”

“Hey!” Jun sounds outraged as he glares at Wonwoo, putting both of his hands over his heart, “I never said such ludicrous words! I would date the hell out of that cutie if given the occasion!”

“What’s the cutie’s name?” Wonwoo demands, curiosity starting to eat him alive. Jun mimics sealing his lips shut and throwing the key away, over his shoulder. “Oh, this is what you choose to be silent about? You’re such a hypocrite.”

“You can ask Jeonghan, if you care so much.”

Instead of saying anything, Wonwoo turns his attention back to his noodles, his appetite still lost somewhere in the middle of the conversation. What he doesn’t say is that he and Jeonghan don’t talk about their lives more than strictly necessary; the words they exchange are usually all aimed at one intent, and one intent only. 

Jun starts talking about something else entirely, and Wonwoo takes the change in topics and rolls with it, smiling when finally Jihoon re-emerges from the abyss of his music to eat some of his lunch and make casual conversation with them. The bitter taste at the back of his mouth doesn’t go away for the duration of the whole meal, and sticks with him the entire day. 

It disappears only the following day, a Friday, when all he can taste on the tip of his tongue is the flavour of Jeonghan’s cherry chapstick.

❣

It’s been four months now, but the situation hasn’t changed much. Wonwoo still feels like he’s walking on glass shards every time the topics of feelings and relationships are brought up in front of Jeonghan, even if the older doesn’t seem to be fazed by them, usually shrugging or ignoring the conversation altogether. 

It stings a bit, but Wonwoo tries not to take it too personally. 

He’s ruminating about these thoughts when he gets back home that Tuesday after his classes. It still feels surreal to have seen Jeonghan on a Tuesday afternoon; there’s a weird, anxious fluttering below Wonwoo’s sternum as he unlocks the door to his apartment. 

If he said he wasn’t anticipating, wondering if he would find Jeonghan still lounging on the sofa, he would be lying. In some weird, twisted way, he hoped that Jeonghan would have still been around. What greets him instead is a room shrouded in darkness, and his stomach drops down despite how pathetic that flimsy hope was. 

He sighs to himself, leaving his coat and shoes at the entrance and making his way inside. Silence greets him, no traces of the fact that Jeonghan actually inhabited that space on a peculiar day. It feels like a fever dream, like Jeonghan was never there to begin with and it was Wonwoo’s delusional mind that conjured his image. Another sigh as he leaves his backpack on the floor, next to the sofa, and crosses the threshold to his bedroom. A final sigh as he undresses himself to get in comfier clothes and lets himself fall over his mattress. 

Except, as soon as his ass makes contact with the bed, he realizes there’s something out of place. There’s a lump on the other side of the bed, when he was pretty sure he pulled the covers in order that morning. He sticks his foot out to prod at the lump; it groans. 

“What the fuck?!”

Wonwoo turns on the lights. The lump groans louder.

“I was  _ sleeping _ , you know?” The lump turns around in bed, burrowing further below the covers and giving his back to Wonwoo.

“Jeonghan-hyung?” Wonwoo knows he sounds far too surprised, but he can’t help it. He can’t wrap his head over the idea that Jeonghan is here, in his bed. On a Tuesday night. After having spent all of his day in Wonwoo’s apartment.  _ On a Tuesday _ .

“Yeah, Wonwoo-yah. Jeonghan.” The covers rustle as Jeonghan turns around, glaring at him as soon as they make eye contact. “Who did you think it was, one of your other lovers?”

The words are spitted out with venom, but Wonwoo knows it’s not as it seems. Jeonghan is a light sleeper and hates being woken up, especially during his daily naps. It’s not actual annoyance - it’s just how Jeonghan talks, without filters most of the time. It took some time to get used to the way his words are always sharp and unfiltered, but after a while Wonwoo grew accustomed to it. 

Now, sitting on his own bed, he feels on edge. Jeonghan’s eyes have fallen shut again, his hair creating a dark halo around his head where it is pressed against the pillow, and Wonwoo doesn’t know what to do with himself. He just exists, his hands folded in his laps, his legs spread out in front of him, wondering what he’s supposed to do or say - if he’s supposed to do or say anything at all. It’s a Tuesday, and Jeonghan is taking a nap in Wonwoo’s bed. He would like to think this is not a big deal, but all the alarm bells inside his head are going off, saying otherwise. 

His internal debate gets cut off when Jeonghan shuffles closer to him in bed, his forehead pressing against the side of Wonwoo’s leg. It’s with a sigh that Jeonghan speaks again, even if his eyes stay closed.

“Did classes go well?” he asks Wonwoo before throwing an arm over his lap and raising his head to rest his cheek against Wonwoo’s cotton-clad thigh. Like it’s moving on its own accord, Wonwoo’s hand ends up tangled between his hair, gently pulling at strands and combing it out of his face. Quietly, Jeonghan emits another sigh. 

“Yeah, they did. I had an assignment graded and apparently the professor thinks I’ve done a great job.”

“I’m sure you have,” Jeonghan murmurs, squishing his face further against Wonwoo’s warm skin like a cat seeking the most comfortable position. “You’re great.”

It’s just an offhanded compliment, but Wonwoo can’t stop the blush from spreading over his cheeks. He’s glad that Jeonghan can’t see him, his eyes still squeezed shut. Wonwoo’s fingers trace the slope of his nose before returning to his fringe.

“Are you ok?” Wonwoo asks him, because despite how hard he wants to pretend that this is normal, this is routine, he can’t help but know that it really is nothing of the sort. Jeonghan being here - in Wonwoo’s house, in Wonwoo’s bed, in Wonwoo’s lap - on a Tuesday evening, of all times, it makes him believe that there is definitely something wrong. 

Another deep, long, and pained sigh from Jeonghan as he burrows himself further below the blankets, seeking Wonwoo’s body heat by aligning their bodies together, his chest pressing against Wonwoo’s leg. “Not really, I had a very shitty Monday.”

“Work?”

“I argued with my best friend.” 

“Oh.”

Wonwoo doesn’t know much about Jeonghan’s circle of friends, aside from the stuff that Jun has dumped on him on-and-off. From what he managed to capture, Jeonghan’s best friend is some sort of mystical creature with the beauty of an angel and the charisma of a famous world star. Jun has a crush on him the size of the actual sun, which is entertaining to say the least.

“Yeah,” Jeonghan finally meets Wonwoo’s gaze, his eyelids fluttering to adjust to the light. “He said some mean things, I said some other mean things back. We were both angry and said stuff we didn’t mean.”

“I’m sure you’ll soon make peace.”

Jeonghan makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat, his arm tightening around Wonwoo. 

“Let’s not talk about that for a bit,” Jeonghan cuts him off abruptly, but then he softens again, his mouth curling into a pout, “I will tell you more, but later. Now I just want some cuddles.”

Who is Wonwoo to refuse him? 

They stay in bed, tangled in each other, until Jeonghan’s stomach rumbles in hunger. At that Wonwoo laughs, his breath moving the hair on top of Jeonghan’s head, where his face is pressed to. A light kick to the shin comes from Jeonghan, whose legs are on top of Wonwoo’s. 

“Don’t laugh at my misery.” Jeonghan murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He sounds sleepy, and Wonwoo can’t stop himself from leaving a quick peck to the crown of his head out of reflex.

He waits with bated breath for a reaction, for Jeonghan to roll out of bed and march away, but all he gets is Jeonghan burrowing himself further into his embrace.

Silence envelopes them for a little more, until Jeonghan’s belly rumbles for the second time and he groans loudly, hiding his face further against Wonwoo’s neck. 

“Do you want to stay over for dinner?” Wonwoo asks him, his hand slowly moving along Jeonghan’s spine, feeling its bumps under his fingertips. With one last, drawn out sigh Jeonghan scoots away from him.

“If I’m not imposing too much,” he says, lips curving into a pout. It sounds like a question. Unable to resist the pull anymore, Wonwoo presses a quick peck to Jeonghan’s mouth before sitting up. 

“It’s fine, I intended to order some pizza anyway. Is that alright with you?”

Before replying, Jeonghan stretches his whole body, arms and legs spread out. “Yes, that’s perfect,” he agrees easily, smiling when Wonwoo throws his phone at him. 

“Then order it. I’m not paying for it.”

Wonwoo escapes the room, Jeonghan hot on his trail, calling him a traitor and a bad  _ dongsaeng _ , but he’s chuckling as he runs behind Wonwoo around the living room. When they stop they’re both out of breath, and Jeonghan taps away at Wonwoo’s phone to place their pizza order, throwing him the device once he’s done. Wonwoo barely catches it.

It’s a Tuesday night and Jeonghan inhabits Wonwoo’s apartment with a very tangible presence; he’s in the pizza crusts he leaves to the side, in the movie they choose to watch together, in the glass of soda that almost gets spilled because Jeonghan’s hands trace a pattern on Wonwoo’s stomach, below his shirt. He’s against Wonwoo’s lips when he leaves a kiss on them right before heading home, his whole body plastered against Wonwoo’s and leaving him breathless, asking for more. If more time or more kisses, he doesn’t know. Jeonghan is out the door before he can actually formulate the question.

❣

Something shifts. It would be imperceptible, if it wasn’t that Wonwoo is always looking at Jeonghan, always drinking him in. There’s a change, a new light in Jeonghan’s gaze when it stops on Wonwoo, and he doesn’t know what to think of it. 

More specifically, he doesn’t know what to think of it when Jeonghan appears at Wonwoo’s front door on a Monday morning, a relaxed smile on his lips and two coffee cups in his hands. It’s late enough that Wonwoo doesn’t curse him out, and it’s weird enough that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He lets him in, takes his coat, sits with him on the couch as they talk about Jeonghan’s internship.

He doesn’t know what to think of it when on a Wednesday evening Jeonghan sends him a text, asking if he wants to go over at his place - he said he ordered too much food, but Wonwoo isn’t sure he believes him. Nonetheless, he takes the bus, knocks on his door, marvels at the place, sits on a couch that seems to come straight out of an interior design magazine. 

“Joshua is out,” Jeonghan puts bowls and takeout boxes on the clear coffee table, passing a pair of chopsticks to Wonwoo and nodding his head towards the food, “so we can totally eat on the sofa. Otherwise he’d be kicking my ass.”

Wonwoo hides a snort behind his sleeve as he readjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

“Is Joshua your roommate?”

A flash of surprise passes over Jeonghan’s face, his eyebrows knitted when he considers Wonwoo’s question, stopping himself with his fingers hovering over the bowl full of kimchi. 

“Wait, I thought I told you about Joshua?”

Confusion must be clear on Wonwoo’s face, because Jeonghan speaks again: “My best friend?”

Wonwoo’s whole face lights up, he’s sure of it. Finally a name for Jun’s mysterious crush. 

“You never said his name,” Wonwoo explains, taking some rice from the table and starting to fill his mouth. After a mouthful or two, curiosity gets the best of him. 

“Did you guys make peace in the end?”

It’s the wrong question, because Jeonghan’s nose scrunches up as if he’s just put something sour in his mouth, but he has yet to start eating. 

“No, we’re in a sort of impasse.” Wonwoo sees Jeonghan’s annoyance in the way he rolls his eyes. “We agreed on disagreeing.”

It takes quite the effort for Wonwoo to stop himself from asking more about the whole argument, reasoning with himself that being in Jeonghan’s apartment is a big enough of a change from their usual routine - it is still the middle of the week after all, and Jeonghan’s home has a real, functioning fireplace. Jeonghan’s hands are warm against his skin, his lips even more so when they trace patterns along his body. Wonwoo forgets everything about best friends, forgets his own damn name - but he doesn’t forget that today is a Wednesday and he’s being pressed against the soft, dark carpet in Jeonghan’s living room.

The glittering light in Jeonghan’s eyes doesn’t disappear that Friday night either, when he asks Wonwoo if he wants to go to the movies. It takes him by surprise, but he says yes anyway, agreeing easily with whichever option gives him the possibility of spending more time with Jeonghan. 

The plot of the movie goes entirely over his head because Jeonghan spends the whole two hours teasing him with soft touches to the seam of his pants and barely-there pecks to the edge of his jaw. Every time one of those happens, Wonwoo tries to turn his head and capture Jeonghan’s lips, but the older is too fast, going back to his seat with a quiet giggle. 

Once they’re back between the four walls of Wonwoo’s apartment, Wonwoo makes sure to torture Jeonghan just as he did with him - or at least he tries, because for how hard he tries to keep Jeonghan on the edge, truth is Wonwoo would dive head first for him if he asked him to. It’s just a matter of ‘ _ please, Wonwoo, please _ ,’ that gets him tumbling off the cliff, unable to stop himself. Maybe it’s pathetic, but the glint in Jeonghan’s eyes seems to grow stronger with that, lighting up the whole room. 

Friday melts into Saturday when the night gets deeper, Jeonghan sticking around between warm sheets, skin damp with sweat, sparkling with afterglow. Wonwoo leaves a kiss to his naked shoulder before resting his forehead there, trying to take deeper breaths to make his heartbeat slow down. One of Jeonghan’s hands cups his face and he’s being dragged upwards, towards Jeonghan’s lips, where their mouths can mold together and Jeonghan can sigh contentedly against his tongue. 

“Can I sleep here?” Jeonghan murmurs in his ear while his fingers trace the bumps of Wonwoo’s spine. Unable to say no to him under any circumstances, Wonwoo nods his head. Jeonghan rewards him with another kiss, his fingertips dancing over Wonwoo’s skin, along his back, his nape, and then finding purchase in his hair to angle his head to kiss him better, deeper, harder. 

“Joshua has someone over tonight and I don’t feel like being around.”

“You still haven’t made up?” Wonwoo has his elbows on either side of Jeonghan’s head, their faces close enough to see the way Jeonghan’s eyes dim at the mention of the argument. Maybe Wonwoo should have bitten his tongue instead of speaking without thinking. 

“Not really.” Jeonghan’s hands are on either side of Wonwoo’s neck, playing with the short hair there. He seems to be fidgeting, considering what to say. “It’s complicated, we’ve never argued over anything so seriously.” 

“Can I help?”

Jeonghan’s brief laugh fills the air, bounces off the walls of his bedroom and gets stuck between the cracks, to be remembered later, when his physical presence won’t be there anymore. 

“You can’t,” Jeonghan answers, shaking his head as if Wonwoo just delivered the best pun he’s ever heard, “but thank you for the concern. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sure you will.” Wonwoo’s mouth covers Jeonghan’s to make him lose his train of thought, to make him forget what they were talking about in the first place. It works wonders, Jeonghan hooking his leg around the back of Wonwoo’s thigh and rolling them over in bed, always looking for the upper hand. 

That night sleep comes easily, Jeonghan pressed against his side in a warm embrace. When Jeonghan looks at him one last time before falling asleep, the twinkling light is still in his gaze, igniting a small fire just below Wonwoo’s sternum. There are words pressing against the roof of his mouth, questions he wants to ask, but he keeps them between his teeth, grinds them together until they're reduced to nothing but dust that covers his tongue with a bitter taste. 

It’s early on a Saturday morning when Wonwoo wonders how the word love would taste in his mouth if he could find the courage to say it out loud. 

❣

Jun has a frown on his face the next time Wonwoo sits with him at lunch, his eyes focusing on him as soon as they’re in front of each other.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Josh is upset, and it’s all your fault,” Jun says, as if that should be enough of an explanation. It isn’t, not at all, and it takes far too much time for him to realize that Jun is talking about Joshua, Jeonghan’s best friend and roommate. 

“Joshua is upset because of  _ me _ _?!_ I don’t even know the guy.”

A roll of eyes tells Wonwoo that wasn’t the right thing to say. Jun stabs his chopsticks through his lunch and glares at him, not adding any other words before filling his mouth with food. Wonwoo stares at him as he feeds himself in silence, without taking his eyes off Wonwoo, a sour expression on his face.

“First of all, what have I done?!” Wonwoo demands, “And secondly, how do you even know that Joshua is upset? Have you guys been talking?” 

A blush colors Jun’s cheeks as soon as Wonwoo’s words are out of his mouth, his gaze finally falling off his face. “That’s beside the point!” Jun wails, his mouth still half-full. Wonwoo grimaces. 

“That’s like, the whole point. How do you know if Joshua is upset if not by talking with him?”

Jun mumbles something that gets absorbed by the rice he’s talking to, his eyes fixed on the bowl right below his nose. 

“Sorry Junnie, I didn’t quite catch that,” Wonwoo tells him, scooting forward in his seat and leaning closer, cupping his ear with his hands to make a scene out of wanting to hear whatever Jun has to say. The other man flicks a rice grain at him, clearly annoyed. 

“I said yes, we’ve been talking.” Jun’s cheeks are so red Wonwoo thinks he could probably cook an egg over them, if the one in his plate wasn’t already cooked. There’s something so satisfying in seeing Jun all shy and bothered over his crush that Wonwoo can’t put into words, a feeling that makes him smile despite himself at the way Jun’s whole face is the same shade of the tomatoes in his salad. 

“We’ve been doing a bit more than talking,” Jun whispers into his meal, and Wonwoo can’t help the scandalized little gasp that escapes him, his hand going over his heart in an over-dramatic gesture that makes Jun snort at him. 

“You’re dating him?!” 

“No, not that.” Jun runs a hand through his hair to comb it out of his face, “We’ve been sharing body fluids,” he concludes the thought, smiling impishly at Wonwoo. A grimace morphs Wonwoo’s face, his nose scrunching up and jostling his glasses askew. 

“Ew, there was literally no need to say it in that way.”

With a wiggle of his eyebrows, Jun is back to his normal self, shyness about his crush all evaporated now that he’s managed to make Wonwoo uncomfortable with his words. 

“Well, that’s what we’re doing! It’s all fun and games.”

“You literally told me last week that having a fuckbuddy was a bad idea.”

Jun scoffs at that, leaving his chopsticks aside to cross his arms over his chest and stare at Wonwoo with a very meaningful, disbelieving look on his face. 

“That was meant for  _ you _ , my dear friend, because you have a soft, delicate heart.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Wonwoo says through his gritted teeth, but Jun doesn’t listen to him and drones on: “I’m perfectly capable of entertaining a no-strings-attached relationship with a man without falling for him.” The glare gets more intense on Jun’s part, and Wonwoo shrinks in his seat, feeling called out. 

“Fine, do as you want.”

“Of course I’m doing as I want.”

“Why is Joshua mad at me, then? Shouldn’t he be grateful that I keep Jeonghan out of the house so he can fuck you on his amazing couch?”

Jun opens his mouth to reply, but closes it immediately, his eyebrows knitting over his eyes in evident confusion. “How do you know what Joshua’s couch looks like?”

“I’ve been over at their place last week,” Wonwoo casually throws Jun’s way, moving his attention from Jun’s suspicious expression, his eyes stubbornly fixed over his own food even as Jun emits a tiny gasp of surprise. 

“What? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

That’s a lie, because all Wonwoo could think of for the last few days has been how his relationship with Jeonghan has shifted, and how much his fight with Joshua has to do with this change. Every new happening, every new discovery makes Wonwoo feel wary, makes him wonder how exactly did they end up hanging out all the time and why is Jeonghan bringing him around to outings that seem like  _ dates _ . He doesn’t dare to call them that, not even to himself, doesn’t dare to hope, but it’s getting harder and harder as time progresses and Jeonghan gets clingier, sweeter, closer to him in every way possible. 

Jun seems to think the same thing, because the dazement doesn’t fall off his face, his features scrunched as he regards Wonwoo with a disbelieving look.

“You didn’t think it was important,” he repeats, clearly unamused. “You’ve done nothing but lament over the fact that Jeonghan was always at yours and only on the weekends, and now you tell me that you’ve been over at his and you didn’t even flinch?”

His friend pauses, his gaze falling to his lunch, apparently remembering only in that moment that he’s supposed to eat instead of arguing with Wonwoo. Taking another mouthful of his food, he munches on it before speaking again. 

“What’s next? You’re gonna tell me that you’re hanging out together during the week?”

Guilty as charged, Wonwoo uselessly tries to avoid Jun’s inquisitive eyes. There’s an exaggerated gasp coming from his friend’s direction, one that makes Wonwoo shrivel in his seat. 

“What?! Are you kidding me?” Jun scoots forward in his seat, hands gripping the edge of the table, lunch forgotten. “Joshua was right then, there’s something fishy going on.” He smells the air like a cat that’s smelled a big catch, eyes squinting in Wonwoo’s direction. 

“There's nothing  _ fishy  _ going on.” Wonwoo wishes this conversation never started in the first place. It’s enough that he questions his relationship with Jeonghan whenever he’s left alone with his thoughts, he doesn’t need Jun to be prodding into it and looking for ways to pick it apart. 

“But there is  _ something  _ going on.”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath. Is there, he wonders to himself, something going on? The definition of something is lax enough to grant him an affirmative answer, but that’s quite evident: he’s been seeing Jeonghan for months now, and at least a degree of something must be going on. What scares Wonwoo is that his and Jeonghan’s definition of  _ something  _ seem to be eons apart from each other. 

His conflict must be evident on his face, because Jun puts his hands up in a placating manner, shaking them side to side.

“Hey, it’s ok. I was kidding. You don’t need to tell me anything at all.”

“I wish I could tell you anything at all, but there’s not much to be put into words.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Wonwoo visibly shrinks in his seat once again, folding into himself. If Soonyoung was here, he would never hear the end of it. His best friend has told him to stop being a coward and spill his guts for weeks now, but Wonwoo never seems to find the right time frame, the right ambience, the right setting. 

“I take that as a no,” Jun huffs a chuckle, finally going back to his food. Silence envelops them as they focus on their lunch, the background noise coming from the cafeteria filling the space between them. It’s comfortable. For a while Wonwoo forgets about his imminent doom. 

“You should talk to Jeonghan-hyung,” Jun tells Wonwoo later with a pat to his back as he sends him off to his next class, “Take your time, but please do it.”

Wonwoo nods his head once before leaving his friend with a wave of his hand as a goodbye. 

It’s a Thursday, and for once Wonwoo dreads the beginning of the weekend. 

❣

Soonyoung is loud and enthusiastic about almost anything. Those are two of the adjectives that best describe Wonwoo’s best friend, and then some more. Today, a Saturday, as he’s sprawled out in Wonwoo’s living room, belly on the floor, Soonyoung is being both of those things.

There’s a Switch joycon in his hand, and he’s waving it back and forth and pushing buttons on it with the determination and the incapability of understanding technology that characterize him. He’s wailing - so loudly that Wonwoo has to wince a couple of times, wondering if his neighbors will file a noise complaint against him - because he’s miserably losing at Mario Kart. 

“This is foul play!” Soonyoung hollers, rolling on the floor while his character ends off the road as Wonwoo’s breezes past it, Wonwoo himself smiling victoriously from his perch on the sofa. This is his fifth win of the day, and he’s feeling lucky. Or, to be honest, he just knows Soonyoung is a terrible player, but he just can’t help entertaining Wonwoo and can’t stop himself from jumping at every opportunity at trying to beat his ass - both physically and metaphorically. The fact that video games aren’t his strong suit is just something he can’t make peace with, always trying to best Wonwoo despite his doomed ending being written from the start. 

“Reminder that the loser pays for dessert!” Wonwoo chirps, which gets him a sock thrown at his face, Soonyoung removing it from his foot with the intent of aiming at him. He gets him on the nose. It’s ridiculous. 

“You’re cheating, I know you are!”

“You’re just terrible at it, Soonie.” Wonwoo can’t help the amusement that bleeds in his words, which gets him another smelly sock to the top of his head. Maybe it’s deserved, but it’s disgusting nonetheless. He throws it back to the sender. 

The loud sound of the doorbell shocks both of them, making them jump in their seats. Wonwoo gets through the finish line and then pauses the game, wondering if his neighbors actually came by to complain. 

“You go,” he tells Soonyoung, who shakes his head no before Wonwoo even starts talking.

“This is your house!”

“It’s you who was yelling! If someone came to complain they should do it to your face!”

Soonyoung rolls around a couple of times as Wonwoo prods at him with his feet, and then finally gets up when the doorbell rings once again, followed by knocks on the door. 

“I’m counting this as a favour,” Soonyoung threatens before unlocking the door. He freezes there, at the sight of who’s on the other side. Wonwoo can’t see the newcomer from his spot on the sofa, so he stretches a bit to the side, balancing on the armrest. Who he sees there almost makes him fall off the couch, barely stopping himself from tumbling to the floor face first. 

“Oh,” Jeonghan says upon spotting Soonyoung, “I was looking for Wonwoo.”

Soonyoung is speechless for a second or two, probably gaping at Jeonghan like the disaster gay that he is. Not that Wonwoo is one to judge, given that he’s done nothing but staring at and admiring the older man since the day they’ve met. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt.” Jeonghan sounds cheery, lighthearted. Wonwoo’s throat closes up. “I’ll get going.”

“Hyung!” He yells from inside the apartment before he can stop himself, before Jeonghan turns around and leaves with the wrong idea. Soonyoung isn’t wearing socks, is in a loose tank top and sweats that clearly belong to Wonwoo given how baggy they are on him. A misunderstanding is just around the corner. 

Jeonghan stops before turning back towards the hallway he came from, cocks his head to the side to look at Wonwoo over Soonyoung’s shoulder. Wonwoo’s best friend is still standing there, probably staring at Jeonghan. In a way, Wonwoo can’t blame him. Black hair is styled out of Jeonghan’s face, and he’s wearing a loose dark shirt tucked inside some high waisted black pants that hug his legs in all the right ways. A mouthwatering sight. 

“Wonwoo-yah?” Jeonghan calls for him, and like the lovesick dumbass that he is, Wonwoo is on his feet immediately, three long strides leading him in front of the open door. He puts a hand over Soonyoung’s shoulder to shake him out of his stupor, and watches as Jeonghan’s eyes follow the movement, squinting at the gesture. Before he can overthink it, he lets his fingers fall off his best friend’s skin. 

“Hey, hyung!” Wonwoo attempts a smile, but Jeonghan’s gaze is still stuck on Soonyoung’s naked collarbone. “What are you doing here?”

The question seems to shake Jeonghan out of his reverie, his face morphing back to his usual composure, focus shifting to Wonwoo. 

“I just came by to see if you wanted to hang out.” The soft glint in Jeonghan’s eyes that Wonwoo has grown used to in the past few days is nowhere in sight, steely brown irises glinting in the neon lights of the corridor. “I should have sent you a text before swinging by unannounced.” 

There’s a heavy weight on Wonwoo’s stomach at the way Jeonghan’s words fall off his lips, cold and detached like he really is regretting being there. Before he can say anything else, like a goodbye, Wonwoo is rushing words out.

“No, it’s ok! Have you met Soonyoung? This is my best friend Soonyoung!” Soonyoung, who’s been stuck in place, silent and mesmerized since the beginning of the exchange, finally seems to come back to life, moving to bow his head politely - far too politely, knowing him - and stuttering out a greeting. “I-I’m Soonyoung!”

“Nice to meet you, Soonyoung, I’m Jeonghan.”

“I know.” 

Wonwoo not-so-subtly elbows Soonyoung in the ribs. Despite the weird atmosphere hanging around them, Jeonghan’s lips curl up in a smile, even if Wonwoo can clearly see that the amusement doesn't reach his eyes. He wonders what’s up with that. 

“I’ll leave you guys to whatever you were doing,” Jeonghan says, already turning towards the elevator. Before he can take another step, Wonwoo’s hand is grasping at his arm, tugging him back by the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Hyung, why don’t you hang around?”

Jeonghan’s lips are drawn in a line, his eyes staring at Wonwoo’s hand as if it personally offended him. Despite the glare, Wonwoo doesn’t let go of him. A sigh, Jeonghan raises his gaze to take a look at Soonyoung - who visibly recoils - before staring at Wonwoo. 

“I don’t want to impose.”

Suddenly, as if a switch has been flipped inside him, Soonyoung is blabbering his mouth away, taking Jeonghan’s hand in his and dragging him inside, going as far as crouching down to unzip his boots for him and waiting for him to remove them entirely while he keeps firing words in his direction.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jeonghan-hyung! Can I call you hyung? Of course I can, you let Wonwoo call you hyung, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be calling you hyung. Lift your foot, hyung! Nice, now the other? Perfect! Come on, come inside, we were in the middle of a Mario Kart tournament, do you wanna join?”

In a flurry of guided movements, Jeonghan is suddenly sitting on Wonwoo’s sofa, Wonwoo right next him, while Soonyoung resumes his position on the floor, belly down, elbows on the carpet, chin on his hands. 

“We’re wasting time until my boyfriend comes by to cook dinner for us,” Soonyoung explains, and Wonwoo feels Jeonghan deflating at his side. There’s no need to look at him to perceive the relief that floods out of him, which makes Wonwoo relax by reflex, shifting in his seat to throw a smile in his direction. From the corner of his eye he can see that Jeonghan isn’t looking at him, his attention fully on Soonyoung. 

“Boyfriend?” Jeonghan asks, “One that cooks? You’re lucky!” 

“Oh, I am, I truly am. I have no idea how I managed to rope him into dating me but damn, I’m a lucky bitch.”

Jeonghan’s short, dry chuckle hangs in the air around them, makes Soonyoung huff a giggle of his own. 

“I’m sure you are.”

“Sometimes I wonder where he finds the energy to take care of you,” Wonwoo interjects, gaining an offended huff out of Soonyoung, who rolls on his back and puts both his hands over his sternum as if Wonwoo just shot him through the heart.

“Now you wound me! I’m a delight! And Mingyu likes being my trophy husband.”

“Mingyu? Kim Mingyu?” Jeonghan’s eyebrows are raised high on his forehead, ready to take flight. 

“Oh? You know Mingyu?”

“I know Seokmin. I’d say I know Mingyu by proxy, since Seokmin is always talking about him. I’ve never met him in the flesh, though.”

“Strange that we haven’t met before,” Soonyoung muses, “I’m good friends with Seokmin as well.”

“Strange indeed.”

Soonyoung rolls around once again, stretches his limbs out to retrieve the joycon that’s fallen from his hands when the doorbell rang. “Do you wanna help me beat Wonwoo’s ass at Mario Kart to make up for the lost time?”

There’s a smirk on Jeonghan’s face when he accepts the offer, one that makes Wonwoo shiver in his seat. 

The rest of the afternoon breezes past as they play several rounds of the game, the Jeonghan-Soonyoung alliance turning out to be a dangerous one, because as one of the two is competing against Wonwoo, the other does everything in his power to distract him. It’s with Jeonghan draped over his lap, his hands below Wonwoo’s shirt, that Mingyu finds them a couple of hours later, Soonyoung announcing his victory with a howl as his boyfriend enters through the door and then launching himself in between his embrace. Despite his usual clumsiness, Mingyu is quick enough to let go of the paper bags in his arms to catch Soonyoung and pick him up, Soonyoung’s limbs immediately wrapping around him like ivy around a tree. 

As Soonyoung and Mingyu exchange pleasantries, Wonwoo finally gives his full attention to Jeonghan, who’s still lying with his head against Wonwoo’s thigh, his hands below the hem of his shirt, tracing patterns on his back with his fingertips. 

By the clothes he’s wearing, Wonwoo assumes that Jeonghan either was out for some fancy occasion before swinging by or came with the intent of taking him out for dinner. The second option makes warmth bloom inside his stomach, makes him wonder how exactly he can survive if this is their new normalcy. 

“It’s nice to see you,” Wonwoo murmurs loud enough that only Jeonghan can hear him, despite how loudly Soonyoung is talking his boyfriend’s ears off. There’s a soft smile on Jeonghan’s mouth, his eyes sparkling when he turns his head to meet Wonwoo’s gaze, the unnamed emotion swimming in them resurfacing and making Wonwoo’s heart beat just a bit, a little bit faster.

“You saw me on Wednesday,” Jeonghan points out, one of his hands reaching up to cup Wonwoo’s jaw. “Too long,” Wonwoo whines, to which Jeonghan snorts a laugh through his nose, his fingers lightly pinching Wonwoo’s cheek. 

“Don’t be corny.”

“I’m just stating facts.”

“I’m going to get up and leave.”

Wonwoo scoffs, disbelieving. “You came all the way here to hang out with me, I doubt you’re going to disappear just because I’m telling you that I missed you.”

At that, Jeonghan’s face morphs in a mixture between constipation and amusement, his eyebrows pinched and the corners of his lips turned upwards. His hand slips off Wonwoo’s face to hide his mouth instead, clearly trying to cover his smile.

“Shut up,” he says, muffled, but Wonwoo is having too much fun. Instead of choosing silence, he curls his torso down, his face closer to Jeonghan’s as he spits out more words.

“I missed you so much,  _ hyung _ ,” he whines, pressing a kiss to Jeonghan’s knuckles where they’re covering his lips, “I felt like dying without you around.” 

The tips of Jeonghan’s ears might or might not be red, but Wonwoo has no time to rejoice in the discovery or to tease him some more, because Soonyoung is suddenly yelling at him instead of at Mingyu. Their little bubble pops just like that, as Mingyu takes the groceries to the table and starts washing his hands, and Soonyoung runs around the room in an excited little dance in anticipation of the upcoming feeding - and because he clearly has a kink for his boyfriend doing basic human activities like cooking and cleaning, stuff he refuses to do on his own.

It’s a loud ordeal, as everything is when Soonyoung is around, but dinner is pleasant and Jeonghan seems to enjoy his friends’ company as much as Wonwoo does. By the time Wonwoo has to call to order their desserts, Jeonghan is laughing at something Soonyoung is saying, head thrown back in real amusement. 

Wonwoo takes a mental picture, stores the moment for later, puts it in a folder specifically made for Jeonghan, his smiles, and his laughs. Each day that passes by the folder grows, and so does the feelings inside his heart - for tonight, though, he puts them aside. There will be another occasion to let them spill past his lips. Tonight he just chuckles when Jeonghan steals a bite of his waffles, and tries to pretend he can’t feel Soonyoung’s knowing gaze on him. 

❣

Wonwoo doesn’t know why Jun asked him to get his breakfast specifically from this café, since there are plenty of places near campus that sell overpriced, sugary beverages served in paper cups. This one in particular isn’t on his usual route, but Jun told him he was craving a brand of tea only this particular coffee shop serves, and he still has a favour over Wonwoo since the last time Wonwoo moved and Jun helped him with the boxes - help is a big word, since he showed up at the last minute and left all the hard work to Jihoon, but it’s the thought that counts, Wonwoo believes. 

So here he is, in line at _“Beans and Leaves,”_ scrolling through his phone to pass the time while the two girls before him rattle out their order to the cashier. Wonwoo takes one last look at the order Jun sent him earlier through text - it’s just some green tea, and maybe a cupcake if he finds any blueberry ones - before it’s his turn. 

“Welcome to Beans and Leaves! What can I get you today?”

The cashier has light brown hair falling in waves over his forehead and captivating, warm eyes, his pristine uniform shirt a warm burgundy that well compliments his skin colour.

“Green tea, a blueberry muffin and a tall latte.”

Pretty boy taps at the cash register, his lips curled in a smile while his gaze moves back and forth between the monitor and Wonwoo himself. There’s something about him that unsettles Wonwoo, maybe the fact that he’s wearing eyeliner, or maybe that the expression on his face looks exactly like the one of the cat that got the canary. Wonwoo studies him some more while he hands him his card to pay, taking in the sparkle in his eyes when he reads his name on it.

“Jeon Wonwoo!” He says, like he knows exactly who he is. Wonwoo can’t say the same, and is a little bit taken aback by the familiarity with which his name spills past the stranger’s lips. 

“Yeah?” He can’t help but ask, staring at the cashier’s hands as he gives the card back to him together with the receipt. In a glint of gold, he realizes he had the guy’s name before his eyes throughout this whole exchange, on the nametag appointed to his chest. 

“Jisoo?” It comes out as a question, the name unfamiliar as much as the face attached to it. Jisoo, if that’s his name, huffs a laugh. “Do you have five spare minutes?” He questions Wonwoo, as if they’re already best friends, “I have a break in a few and I’d like to talk to you.” 

Before he can rebut, say he has other places to be, Jisoo speaks again: “I already told Jun you’d be late.”

That gets Wonwoo to stand there, confused and intrigued, waiting for Jisoo and his beverages at the same time. When his break actually rolls around, it’s ten minutes later, and Wonwoo is sitting alone at a table in the corner, wondering what exactly he walked into. Who is this guy? Why does he know Jun? Why did Jun send him here in the first place?

When Jisoo plops down in the chair across from him, he’s still smiling that cunning smile from earlier. It’s unnerving. 

“I will prepare the rest of your order before you leave, I don’t want Jun’s tea to get cold.”

“How do you know Junhui?” Wonwoo can’t help sounding suspicious, training his eyes on the tall latte that Jisoo puts in front of him. Despite his wariness, his hands end up around the cup, soaking up its warmth before taking a sip. Jisoo’s smile melts at the edges, his face softening, expression changing completely. 

“Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself properly. I’m Joshua.”

Wonwoo almost chokes on his coffee. 

“Joshua?” He repeats after gulping down the too hot beverage, “Jeonghan’s Joshua? Jun’s Joshua?”

“I like to think I belong to my own self, but yes, that Joshua.” 

“Why does your nametag read Jisoo?” Wonwoo curiously asks, confused by the sudden revelation. The sweet grin on the other’s face doesn’t slip, only grows wider. 

“That’s my korean name, but I actually prefer to be called Joshua. It’s nice to finally meet you, Wonwoo.”

There’s a hand put in front of him for Wonwoo to shake, which he does after squinting at it for a bit, wondering what’s the real reason why Jun sent him here to talk with this guy. Joshua combs his fingers through his hair before sitting up straighter, his eyes sparkling under the cafè’s lights. 

“Nice to meet you too, I guess,” Wonwoo replies, still unsure of his words. He takes another sip of his drink, trying to discreetly stare at Joshua without seeming too much of a creep. In all honesty, Jun was right: Joshua looks like he belongs on a catwalk, or on a stage, somewhere where people can stare at him and be in awe at his good looks. Joshua puts his forearms on the table, and Wonwoo’s gaze gets drawn to the way his biceps flex. Yeah, definitely eye candy. 

“Sorry if I tricked you into coming here, but Jeonghan made it impossible for me to contact you in any way that wasn’t this one.”

“Did you want to talk to me?” Wonwoo asks, to which Joshua nods his head, fingers entangling in front of him on the table. His eyebrows are knitted together in what Wonwoo supposes is thought, or so it seems by the expression on his face. 

“I just wanted to make sure about something,” Joshua starts, his voice lowering. The sound of it is foreign to Wonwoo’s ears, but he finds himself being mesmerized by his accent and the tone of it, the way his tongue rolls the words around in his mouth. “I don’t want to sound like I’m not minding my own business, but I really only want Jeonghan’s happiness.”

“I’m sure of that.”

“I’m sure it’s the same for you, right? You want Jeonghan to be happy?”

Wonwoo nods his head. That’s an easy question with an easy answer. Maybe he doesn’t know Jeonghan as well as Joshua does, but he can vouch on his own interest in seeing Jeonghan’s smile. 

“That’s good. Can I be direct with you?”

“More than you’ve been so far?”

“Yeah, more. I don’t want to offend you, or scare you, or anything. I just think Jeonghan needs a bit of an intervention.”

It’s a Monday morning and Wonwoo finds himself speechless, sitting together with a man he’s never seen before but who he has heard far too much about. For good measure, he nods another time, confirming that Joshua can proceed with his talking. 

“Do you like Jeonghan?”

Wonwoo is lucky he’s not currently drinking his coffee, because he’s quite sure it would have gone down the wrong pipe with the way the question leaves him sputtering and speechless, his mouth opening and closing several times before he can come up with an answer that makes any sense and won’t out him to Jeonghan’s best friend. 

“I mean,” Wonwoo pauses, his cheeks surely flaming red as his eyes look anywhere but at Joshua, “I wouldn’t be spending time with him if I didn’t like him.”

Joshua hums low in his throat; Wonwoo feels his eyes on himself, feels them pierce through his skin like if he’s made of glass, transparent, his feelings out in the open for the entire world to see. 

“Of course you like him, to some degree, but are you perhaps,” Joshua pauses, if for added dramatic effect or if to give him time to brace himself, Wonwoo is not sure, “in love with Jeonghan?”

Once vocalized, the truth is even scarier. There’s no need for Wonwoo to confirm it with words: his face probably tells everything that needs to be said, even to someone like Joshua, who doesn’t know him in the least. It’s on a Monday morning that his feelings get outed, hanged like clean laundry to dry in the sun. 

The smile on Joshua’s face softens even more, his expression open when he gently pats the back of Wonwoo’s hand with his own. 

“Remember, I’m telling you this just because I want Jeonghan’s happiness. I think you should tell him.”

There’s fear in Wonwoo’s mouth, the taste of it coating his tongue with a sourness that he can’t gulp down even with the aid of his coffee order, as sugary as it is. Instead of replying, he takes a look around the cafè, wondering how much longer Joshua’s pause is, wondering why did he say yes to sitting down with a stranger in the first place. 

“Listen, I know this relationship you have with him is confusing.” Joshua’s eyes are kind, understanding. Wonwoo thinks that Jun is a lucky man. “For how much I love him, sometimes I wish I could break his skull in two and see what goes on inside it.”

A snort escapes Wonwoo at the words, despite the awful feeling still residing in his throat; it’s like something got dislodged, like he swallowed his own tongue, even if he’s pretty sure it still sits in his own mouth. Despite searching for the right words, he can’t find anything to say to Joshua - anything he can think of is going to be too much, or too little. Instead of speaking, he bites the inside of his cheek. Joshua sighs, a small sound. 

“I’m going to tell you this because I want you to see the whole picture. I hope it’s the right thing.”

“What?” Wonwoo croaks out, curious despite himself. Before speaking again, Joshua wets his lips, probably contemplating if he should actually speak. When his mouth opens, his voice is pitched lower, only for Wonwoo’s ears. 

“On Saturday, when he came over at yours,” he starts, resting his chin on his open palms, “he was coming back from a date.”

A cold shiver travels through Wonwoo’s spine, despite the warm cup held between his fingers. He blinks once, then twice. Joshua’s eyes are on him, studying him, making him feel like an insect under a microscope. 

“Before you overthink this, it was probably my fault. I kept pushing him instead of waiting for him to get to his own conclusions, and I made a mistake. I apologize for that.”

“How’s that your fault?”

“Did Jeonghan tell you why we’re not seeing eye to eye these days?”

Shaking his head no, Wonwoo wonders if this is the moment of truth. Joshua’s smile grows wider, his teeth shining under the cafè’s lights. 

“I keep on insisting that he’s in love with you, and the way he’s acting is hurting you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Jun told me, I don’t need to know anything.”

“No, I mean. You don’t know if he’s in love with me.” 

Joshua makes a face at him, an eye-roll that looks far too polished to be just an off occurrence. In his free time this man probably tries out his sassy expression in the mirror, Wonwoo figures. If he wasn’t so drained, he would be giggling at the thought.

“I know Jeonghan like I know my own self. Maybe even better. I recognize the signs, and you probably do too.”

Maybe Wonwoo does. Maybe he’s too afraid to hope that what he sees on Jeonghan’s face is what he thinks it is, too worried that trying to confront him would only get him to run away. Still, Wonwoo doesn’t know what he’s doing here, and what Joshua is trying to tell him. He voices his doubts out loud.

“As I was saying, Jeonghan went on a date on Saturday. I pushed him too much and that made him snap, telling me that he would prove me he wasn’t into you that way.”

Dramatic pausing seems to be a thing Joshua does often, because silence envelops them for a short while. It’s Wonwoo that interrupts him, still confused as to what’s the reason he’s being told all of this. 

“Jeonghan went on a date on Saturday, and then he came to my place. What’s the big deal?”

The grin on Joshua’s face gets cunning again, the one of someone holding the knife from the handle, ready to stab you when you least expect it. It’s a bit scary, the resemblance Wonwoo can see with Jeonghan himself. The two of them seem far too similar, at least from an external point of view. Maybe Wonwoo believes Joshua when he says he knows Jeonghan far too well.

“He didn’t just go on a date. He went on a date, sat down with this unnamed person, and after ten minutes of being in their presence he called me, pretending I sent him a text for an emergency, and bailed said person.”

“Maybe the person was boring.”

“Maybe.” From the way Joshua is looking at him, Wonwoo knows that’s not the right answer. “Or maybe when he called me he said it felt wrong to be sitting there with this person, when all he wanted to do was spend time with you.”

If Wonwoo’s jaw is hanging open, the only person who can see it is Joshua, who gently taps his fingers against his cheek in a reminder to close his mouth. Swallowing around nothing, Wonwoo follows his directions. The coffee he sips on doesn’t help with the dryness on his tongue, doesn’t help wash down the surprise. 

“I repeat, I’m telling you all of this because I want Jeonghan to be happy, and from what I’ve seen you make him very, very happy. So if you do like him, I think it’s safe to say he likes you too.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Wonwoo feels out of his depth, the world spinning in the wrong direction, throwing him off his balance and making him stumble around. 

“That’s up to you.” Joshua shrugs, as if what he told Wonwoo didn’t just destroy and reconstruct his whole universe in a matter of seconds. “I think the smart decision would be telling him how you feel. I know it’s hard, but if you sit around waiting for him, it’s never going to happen. Jeonghan is too good at self-sabotaging his own happiness.”

Joshua speaks like he’s seen the same movie several times, from beginning to end, to the post credit scene and the sequel as well. Another tiny shrug of his shoulders. “Despite how good of a flirt he is, when it comes to real feelings he’s always been a disaster. But trust me when I say he really cares about you.”

It’s a lot to take in, but Wonwoo washes the last words down with the rest of his coffee, thanking Joshua for the talk and the breakfast that the older pays for, going as far as writing a little note on Jun’s cup that Wonwoo refuses to read - there’s a heart at the end of it, right before Joshua’s signature, and Wonwoo wonders if the two of them have taken a step in the way of a less casual relationship. He’s going to ask Jun as soon as he sees him. 

For now, Wonwoo leaves Joshua with a wave and quite a lot of new knowledge that he doesn’t know what to do with. It’s with a troubled mind that he walks his way to campus, on a Monday morning that he thought would be as uneventful as any other. Instead, he has his hands full now - both with breakfast, and with thoughts and feelings he can’t even begin to sort out, no matter how hard he tries to. 

❣

The weekend means Jeonghan knocking on Wonwoo’s door. Wonwoo has grown used to hearing the doorbell and opening the door up with the widest smile on his face, like a pavlovian response, ready to welcome Jeonghan inside his home and between his open arms. 

Like clockwork, Jeonghan is at his door with takeout in his hands and a pretty grin on his face that Wonwoo promptly kisses away, tugging at Jeonghan’s collar and making sure that he’s licked the cherry chapstick off his lips before letting him inside. 

“What was that for?” Jeonghan demands after Wonwoo lets him go, standing dazed in the entrance while Wonwoo takes the food off his hands and puts it on the dining table, not waiting for Jeonghan to follow him.

“Nothing, you just looked cute. And I missed you.”

Wonwoo mulled over Joshua’s words for the whole week, wondering if he was ready to let the feelings accumulating on the tip of his tongue out in the open. There’s a part of him, the one that dares to hope, the one that believed in everything Joshua said, that really wants to let everything out in the open; the other part, the one which is scared of being hurt, would rather die than tell Jeonghan the truth. It’s a tough choice. 

In the end he came up with the best plan he could possibly think of: to not think. If the moment is going to be the right one, if his gut will tell him that spilling the contents of his heart is a good idea, he will do it. No need to stress himself out. 

Easier said than done. 

Food goes down his throat with much more difficulty than it’s supposed to, the tight knot at the back of it making it hard for him to swallow down his dinner; maybe it’s also due to the fact that Jeonghan keeps on throwing suspicious glances at him, his eyes sticking to the side of his face when he’s not looking. He wonders what is going on. 

An answer comes in the form of a kiss pressed to his cheek once they’re done eating, as he’s busy harvesting fruits in Animal Crossing and Jeonghan is staring at him from his perch on the sofa, right next to him - “I hate this game,” he said, but then sat next to Wonwoo and cooed at the villagers Wonwoo showed him. 

Jeonghan kisses his cheek, his jaw, dips his face down to suck a bruise on his neck, making Wonwoo moan in the process. He almost drops the controller in his lap, ready to give his full attention to Jeonghan, but the older uses two fingers to push his chin to the side, to keep his head facing the TV screen. 

“Don’t mind me,” Jeonghan whispers against his skin, making goosebumps erupt on the surface of it with his hot breath, “I don’t want to distract you.”

Wonwoo huffs out a chuckle, pressing the wrong button and making a fish escape. 

“It’s a bit too late for that.”

Another kiss to his throat, and then Jeonghan rests his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, warm against his side. It’s the kind of warmth that Wonwoo craves when Jeonghan isn’t with him, that he misses when he’s lying in bed alone and the sheets are far too cold around him. 

“I can stop playing if you want.”

“No, please. The music is relaxing.” 

It takes five more minutes of silence interrupted only by the game’s sounds for Wonwoo to start feeling jittery, so much that his knee starts moving nervously on its own. There is a hand on top of it, Jeonghan’s fingers splayed out and squeezing the flesh of his thigh. With a sigh, Wonwoo tries to relax, but the nervous feeling won’t fade, won’t leave him alone. Before he can overthink too much, words come out of his mouth.

“I met Joshua on Monday.”

Wonwoo feels Jeonghan tensing at his side, yet he doesn’t move to get away from him, his cheek still on the pointy edge of Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

“You did?”

“Yeah. I coincidentally went to get coffee at the place he works at.”

“Coincidentally.” Jeonghan’s voice sounds dry, his tone flat, like he doesn’t believe a word Wonwoo is saying. 

“Well, maybe not so coincidentally. He seems like a cool guy, though.”

“Wonwoo-yah,” Jeonghan raises his head to meet his gaze, his eyes hardened, steely brown confronting him without a single transparent emotion showing. “Cut to the point.”

The ice in Jeonghan’s gaze makes Wonwoo involuntarily shiver, his own fixing on the TV to avoid being read through like an open book. Sandpaper seems to be inside his throat when he gulps down, almost choking on his own saliva. 

“Hyung,” Wonwoo croaks out, so low that he wonders if Jeonghan has heard him at all, “I think I’m in love with you.”

It’s supposed to be liberating, he’s supposed to feel better now that the weight is off his chest. All he can focus on is the scorching hot of Jeonghan’s eyes on the side of his face, and the way silence stretches in the space between them, the noises coming from the TV drown out by the weight of it. He wonders if he made a mistake. He wonders if he should laugh it off, call it a joke, say that he didn’t mean it. It would break his heart more than the absence of any sound coming out of Jeonghan’s mouth is currently doing. 

It takes a while, a full minute most likely, but Wonwoo finally finds the courage to look in Jeonghan’s direction. 

There’s a smile on Jeonghan’s face, and there’s that shining light in his eyes that makes Wonwoo’s chest feel too tight for his heart, too small for the overflowing feelings that try to pour out of him from his mouth at all times. The glitter in Jeonghan’s eyes makes a flower made out of hope bloom somewhere inside Wonwoo’s ribcage, putting roots there and slowly inching its way up his throat, coating his insides with warmth, making his mouth taste like honey and a happiness he can’t stop trying to reach for. 

“Was Joshua-hyung right?” Wonwoo dares to ask, his voice barely above a whisper, too scared of spooking Jeonghan and himself if he dares to raise it. 

“Don’t make me say it out loud,” Jeonghan pleads, but he’s grinning like a fool, sitting on his own hands while looking at Wonwoo with starshine in his gaze, glowing, glittering. It makes Wonwoo’s heart do a backflip, and then one more, and then he’s smiling right back at Jeonghan. 

“Hyung,” he whines, putting his palms over Jeonghan’s knees where he’s sitting cross-legged, facing Wonwoo, “please.”

There are moments during which Wonwoo wonders if all Jeonghan does is play with him, because the twinkle in his eyes is just teasing. This one isn’t one of those. Jeonghan has affection written all over his face, expression open as he moves his hands to cover the back of Wonwoo’s own, smile growing even more. 

“You’re such a sap,” he says, instead of voicing what Wonwoo wants him to, but then he’s moving, leaning in, pressing a quick peck on the tip of Wonwoo’s nose, and then one on his cheekbone, and then connecting their lips together, his hands moving to cup Wonwoo’s face and bring him closer, so close that they’re basically breathing the same air once their mouths detach. 

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a while, now,” Jeonghan whispers against Wonwoo’s lips, swallowing up Wonwoo’s soft sound of surprise in another scorching kiss, his tongue stealing Wonwoo’s answer straight from the source, not giving him time to wrap his head around the confession before he’s pressed back onto the couch, Jeonghan hovering above him like an angel of destruction, stunning and unreachable in his beauty. Or so it should be, but Jeonghan is looking at Wonwoo like he holds all the answers in the universe, and all he can do is stare back, marveling at the feelings that he can see pouring through Jeonghan’s gaze. 

“Sorry for not telling you when I first realized,” Jeonghan says, his thumb stroking the skin just below Wonwoo’s right eye, “I don’t have the best track record with relationships, and I was afraid of screwing everything up.”

Wonwoo chuckles at that, shaking his head. “If I told you I fell in love with you at first sight, would you run away from me?”

Wriggling his nose, Jeonghan shakes his head. “I had an inkling, given the way you kept looking at me.”

“And how’s that?”

Jeonghan’s fringe casts shadows on his eyes, and Wonwoo’s hands find purchase on his hips to anchor himself before drowning in the depth of his intense gaze, feeling like a man who’s stranded at sea, ready to be devoured by the waves. 

“Like a bit of a sap,” Jeonghan replies, laughing when Wonwoo makes an offended noise, resting his forehead against Wonwoo’s before kissing his cheek. “It’s ok, you know? Your transparent feelings were what kept me from running away in the first place.”

“Is that so?”

A nod, Jeonghan’s fingers still playing with Wonwoo’s hair as he rests his weight on his elbow on either side of Wonwoo’s face. “Reading you was easy, and that’s what made me hope there would be a possibility of us becoming a bit more than fuckbuddies.”

“Oh? Like what?” Wonwoo is teasing, but Jeonghan doesn’t seem to mind, his grin sharpening just a bit around the edges, his eyes gleaming when he leans down to kiss him. Expecting another peck, Wonwoo lets out a gasp of surprise when Jeonghan bites on his lower lip, licking over it right after. “You tell me,” Jeonghan says, before occupying his mouth once again by pressing it against Wonwoo’s, stealing tiny sounds out of him with the way his thigh finds its place between his legs. 

It took Wonwoo four minutes and ten seconds to fall in love, and it takes him the same amount of time to fall apart between Jeonghan’s hands now that he sees the love in Jeonghan’s gaze as he destroys him and reconstructs him with his hands, his mouth, his tongue. There’s no need for more words, for the affection to be repeated out loud, because now that he knows what he’s looking at, Wonwoo can see it all, pouring through Jeonghan’s actions, through his kisses, through his caresses. 

It takes Wonwoo four minutes and ten seconds to fall in love all over again. It takes the same amount of time for Jeonghan to make his love bleed through his lips, the most important trace of it sticking between Wonwoo’s arms as they fall asleep tangled in each other. 

❣

Joshua has a knowing smile on his face when he sees them walking through the door of the cafè, hand in hand. Instead of teasing them, he regards them with his most effective customer-friendly face. 

“Welcome to Beans and Leaves! What can I get you today?”

There’s a scowl on Jeonghan’s face, but Wonwoo knows it’s just a pretense, a way to put up a front. “Iced americano for me, and a latte for Wonwoo.”

“How cute, you know your boyfriend’s order by heart?” So much for not teasing them, Wonwoo thinks. Joshua throws them another dazzling smile before typing in their order. “Beverages are on the house today, I can’t resist cute couples.”

Wonwoo has to tug Jeonghan away before he jumps over the counter to shove his fist in Joshua’s face. “Thank you, hyung! We’ll be waiting there for your break!” Wonwoo throws over his shoulder before pushing Jeonghan in the direction of an empty table, grinning when Joshua answers him with a thumbs up. 

“That fucker, I will end him,” Jeonghan grumbles under his breath, “I can’t believe you roped me into  _ thanking  _ him, of all things!”

“I just want you two to make peace.”

“I told you, we already did.”

“What you did sounded suspiciously like trying to bribe him into forgiving you by buying him food, but I guess I should have expected that method from you.”

Jeonghan squints at him, puckering his lips. “What are you trying to imply?”

“That you’re a cheater.”

A beat of silence as Jeonghan considers his words, biting on his lower lip in the process. Wonwoo wishes he was the one doing that. “Fair enough,” the older says in the end, shrugging his shoulders. Wonwoo can’t help the snort that escapes his mouth. 

“I just want to thank him as well, you know?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“You love me, stop acting like being here is a chore,” Joshua says while sitting down at Jeonghan’s side and kicking his chair, making him wobble in place. The barista puts their cups on the table, keeping a small espresso for himself and downing it in just a few sips. At Wonwoo’s worried stare, he replies with a shrug. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“I’m thankful I wasn’t home,” Jeonghan grumbles, hiding his face inside his mug when Joshua kicks his chair once again in retaliation. “Shut up.”

“Joshua-hyung, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Joshua dismisses, “You just needed a little push. I’m glad it worked out in the end.” There’s a sincere smile on his lips, and Wonwoo can’t help but feel glad that Jeonghan has such a great friend on his side, someone who wants him to be happy and is ready to take risks to make sure of that. 

With a gentle nudge of his elbow against Jeonghan’s side, he encourages the older to talk. Instead of speaking, Jeonghan retaliates, his pointy end making Wonwoo wheeze when it makes contact with his stomach. 

“Hyung,” he wails, rubbing his middle with his hands. Jeonghan closes his eyes for a brief second, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He takes a deep breath in. With amusement written all over his face at the interaction, Joshua patiently waits. 

“Shua, thank you,” Jeonghan finally spits out, sounding like he’s making a great effort. Then, lower, he adds: “You were right.”

Joshua looks on the verge of a laughing fit, but he keeps it in, biting on his lower lip to clearly stop himself and nodding his head in Jeonghan’s direction. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, the ghost of a giggle resonating in his voice, “I’m just happy to see you happy.” 

“Why the hell am I surrounded by sappy people.” Jeonghan makes a fake retching sound, hiding his face behind his hand. Wonwoo can see that his cheeks are rosier, anyway, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just squeezes Jeonghan’s knee under the table in encouragement. 

“That’s the punishment for being so closed off with your emotions,” Joshua reasons, gently patting Jeonghan’s head. “I’ll leave you two to your coffee date,” he adds, getting up and taking his coffee cup with him. 

“This is not a date!” Jeonghan yells after him, clearly scaring a couple of patrons in line at the counter with the loud tone of his voice. When Joshua just waves his hand in the air in response, Jeonghan sags in his chair, taking another sip of his americano and staring off in the distance, eyebrows knitted.

“It isn't a date?” Wonwoo calls for his attention, making Jeonghan’s head snap in his direction - he has his lips jutted out in a pout, to which Jeonghan visibly recoils. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Jeonghan whines, pressing the side of his cup to his cheek in a clear attempt to make the light blush disappear from his face, “That’s not what I meant! Of course it’s a date!”

Unable to keep up his facade, Wonwoo breaks into a smile. “I was just teasing you. There’s no need for us to call this a date. There’s no need for labels at all, as long as we know we’re on the same page.”

Jeonghan stares at him in silence for a second or two, his head cocked to the side in contemplation. Almost wondering if he said something wrong, Wonwoo is about to open his mouth to retreat when Jeonghan leans over the table to kiss him square on his mouth, both of his hands finding purchase on the lapels of his jacket to bring their faces closer together. Taken by surprise, Wonwoo’s lips part to let a surprised little sound escape him - which promptly gets swallowed by Jeonghan, who licks his way inside Wonwoo’s mouth with the insistence of a starving man devouring his first meal in a while. 

When they separate, Jeonghan’s eyes are sparkling under the neon lights of the cafè, and Wonwoo wonders if it’s normal for his heart to be beating as fast as it is, or if he’s about to die right there, with the taste of Jeonghan’s iced americano on the tip of his tongue. 

“Keep saying stuff like that and I will marry you instantly,” Jeonghan says when he settles back in his seat, making Wonwoo’s breath itch with the way the words are spoken lowly, only for his ears to pick upon. He gulps down, commits to memory the way Jeonghan’s cheeks are slightly pink and his gaze is glowing with emotions, so clear that Wonwoo wonders how he missed them this whole time, how he thought they could be anything else but affection and love. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” he whispers back, making Jeonghan smile, before he swats his hand at Wonwoo’s chest when the younger starts giggling, unable to refrain himself, the giddy feeling inebriating him more than any alcohol could ever do. 

“For now, let’s just enjoy our coffee.” Jeonghan reaches for his hand, intertwines their fingers together and doesn’t let go, not until they’re out of there, back in Wonwoo’s apartment, and they can be tangled with each other in other, more intimate ways. 

It’s a Sunday night, but for once Wonwoo doesn’t care for Monday to come around. For once, he knows that he won’t wake up alone the following morning, that the weekends aren’t the only times he’s allowed to bask in Jeonghan’s glow anymore. They can stay lost between the sheets of Wonwoo’s bed for as long as they want to. 

❣

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/starryhoch) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/slytherminie) :)


End file.
